The Turning Away
by AAJ Edward
Summary: The life and events between Germany's split and the reuniting of East and West. BRUDERLudwigxGilbert ItaGer  Rating for language and Italy's foul mouth


**Alright, this is something I wrote like... last summer while I was in Perth, Australia. Anyway, I had this thought while I was on the plane listening to my ipod. It all kinda started with the image of Germany begging Alfred to see his brother. Anyway, it evolved from there. It's been a long time since I even touched this and I skimmed it, so it's rough. I can't remember if there's anything missing or not, but most things mentioned can be wikid. **

**Also, I'm leaving the German as it is. If you really want to know the translations it's known as copy and paste with google translate. To me, leaving it this way, gives more impact to the story.**

**Song recommended for listening and title credit: The Turning Away by Pinkfloyd**

**Any and all mistakes are my own. Please, go easy on it. Like I said this is rough. ALSO! For those of you out there that aren't open minded! DON'T BOTHER READING OR REVIEWING! This requires an open mind as it is from Germany's view! Some subject matter may be touchy! Ye be warned!  
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**Disclaimer: I don't own...**

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><p><strong>May 7th, 1945<strong>

The events of the day were unexpected considered the glaring warning signals. We just.. couldn't take anymore. We were afraid... we were starving. We had nothing... The war had cost us too much, taken too much from a country already stricken by poverty from the first World War... I suppose it's easier to explain the events instead of rely on dates...

May 7th, 1945... It's the day that marked the complete unconditional surrender of the German army... That's why the day is so famous... the day before VE day... "Victory in Europe Day", the allies came to know it as... They celebrated. And why shouldn't they? They'd won a war... they'd managed to, once again, stop the bad guy... But... who was the bad guy? The people of Germany? The Fatherland itself? Those in charge? Those running the government? How did such a powerful country... fall into the crazed, hate-filled, fanatics it became? Perhaps the blame lies with, not only the Germans, but the rest of the countries as well?

World War one left Germany in shambles. The causes of the war are no longer important... only that it was the entire spark that helped ignite the flame that became the Second World War.

The Treaty of Versailles... it left the German people with nothing... No money... no pride... no hope... It destroyed a nation with so much potential... and then _He_ came along.

His name was Adolf Hitler... Mein Gott... if only we had known... He gave the people of Germany hope. He brought back the fire behind the people's eyes at the mention of their German heritage. But more importantly... he gave them some one else to blame. He preached a hate so deep that the people began to take him seriously. It was the only hope they had anymore. By this time they knew the rest of the world didn't care. The others just wanted money owed to them for the damages during the first war... Hitler fed off of this... and he used it to his advantage...

May 7th... it is now a day permanently marked into the minds of the German people...

May 7th, 1915... the Lusitania is sunk by a German U boat...1198 lives are lost... 128 of them were Americans...

May 7th, 1939... Rome-Berlin Axis is formed between Italy and Germany...

May 7th, 1942... Nazi decree orders that all pregnant Jewish women residing in Kovno Ghetto are to be executed...

May 7th, 1945... Nazi Generals Jodl and Von Friedenburg surrender to allied forces...

May 7th, 1945... Unconditional surrender of German forces...

May 7th, 1945... 22 German civilians are killed in Amsterdam by German SS officers... The people had been gathered in the streets to welcome the Canadian forces that had come to liberate them... A single shot rang out at precisely 3 pm... and all the people had been doing was celebrating the end of the war... all they'd wanted was peace... all they'd wanted was freedom from the reign of the fourth Reich... instead, May 7th was the darkest day in the lives of German people... it was the day _my_ people were split in half...

**August 2nd, 1945**

"This is bull shit!" Gilbert snapped, slamming his hand on the table in front of him. Ahead of us, three allied powers barely twitched. Arthur calmly watched us, his gaze almost unreadable. It was a first, to be honest. Normally he was rather easy to read, seeing as that stupid American was constantly nagging him. But for once, Alfred was quiet, no food or drink to be seen. Instead, his mouth was closed, lips drawn down in a frown, eyes glaring back, almost challenging us to act up. The one that worried me... was Ivan. The Russian sat there, a small, almost pleased smile on his face. It infuriated me, but I refused to let it show. The bastard should have been on trial with Prussia and I... he'd been nearly as bad, if not worse to his own people... and America... preaching about how horrible our camps were... what about his Japanese-Americans? German-Americans? What happened to them? England was the only one that even deserved to be frowning at us... He had every right.

"Gilbert, sit down..." I muttered, voice calm, gaze down on the table in defeat. My head was pounding, a bit of blood still leaking through the bandaging on my face, staining the gauze and tape pink.

The albino fell silent, snapping his gaze to me. I could feel him glaring at me. "Are you kidding me! Ludwig! They're going to ruin Germany! All you've worked for! All you've done to try and return the Fatherland to it's former glory-!"

"Enough!" I snapped, lifting my own glare to my brother. "Enough, Gilbert... The Germany that was can't come back... Prussia is gone, Gilbert... we lost..."

"So you accept the terms of the surrender and the conditions to be applied to your country?" Arthur finally voiced, lifting one brow just slightly higher than the rest. Beside him, Albert fidgeted, his glare darkening slightly. Slowly, I nodded.

"Ja... the people of Germany are ready and willing to pay for their part in the war..."

"Ludwig..." Gilbert whispered, almost pleading. A shock ran through my system. I had heard that tone before... I'd heard it right before Hitler had gone through with the "marriage" between old Prussia and young Germany... He didn't want to suffer again. I didn't blame him.

Ivan smirked, sliding the paper over to me. A pen sat atop it, the scrawl covering the parchment outlined the surrender... every bit of it. My gaze fell to the only spot left open, a single line waiting for my signature.

"Ludwig, bitte ... tue es nicht ... Bitte..." Gilbert muttered softly, leaning close to me. His hand gripped my shoulder, making me wince as his grip only tightened as I reached for the pen. Setting the tip to the paper, I hesitated. There was something they weren't telling me. I lifted my gaze, eying each one, studying them. No one spoke. Ivan's smirk only began to turn to a frown, the sudden halt none to his liking.

"Sign it, German..." He finally growled, glaring in my direction. In turn, I turned my own glare to him. I may have been broken, but my pride had some how managed to hang onto a scrap of its former self. Almost as if in defiance, I set the pen down.

"Why so eager, Ivan? Is there something you're not telling me?"

Arthur was the one that spoke up first, startling the two beside him. "Germany is going to be broken into halves..." I frowned slightly, watching as he bowed his head, shoulders drooping slightly. "West Germany will be under the control of the American government..." he lifted his gaze back to me before looking to Gilbert. "East Germany will-"

"Belong to me..." Ivan interrupted, his smirk having returned.

"Was? Du Bastard! Ich weigere mich! Ludwig, können Sie nicht im Stich lassen würde!" Gilbert snarled, once more standing tall. From the corner of my eye, I saw Alfred flinch back in shock. The kid had a lot to learn. Arthur sighed and shook his head, glancing at Russia.

"It wasn't my idea, Gilbert..." The Brit stated, frowning a bit more. "I would have been happy with just the return of land and the demilitarization..."

"Who cooked this one up then! Him!" The former Prussian snapped, pointing to the smirking Russian just diagonal from him. Ivan shrugged.

"And if I did?"

They just knew how to fire him up, didn't they?

"YOU HAD BETTER HOPE IT WASN'T YOU! YOU COCK SUCKING! MOTHER FUC-!"

I grabbed Gilbert's arm and yanked him back into his chair. He squawked a bit before settling on pouting, glaring at the Russian for the remainder of the meeting.

"Alfred..." The American turned his wide-eyed gaze back to me, having been staring at my elder brother before hand. "Where do you stand on all of this?"

He shifted nervously from foot to foot, the cockiness having been temporarily shocked from his system. Oh so much to learn... "I agree with Russia... albeit a bit hesitantly..."

I looked them all over once more before sighing.

"Mein Bruder... bitte..." Gilbert whimpered. I lifted the pen and glanced at Gilbert, knowing this could be the last time I might see him.

"Nichts ist für immer, mein Bruder. Alles muss ein Ende haben..." I set the pen to paper once more, hesitating for a second. "Verzeih mir, mein Bruder. Verzeihen Sie mir..."

August 2nd, 1945... I signed our lives away... and allowed for the separation of East and West Germany...

**1947**

My people are starving. That Gott verdammt excuse of an American has done nothing he'd formerly promised to do. He'd told me, to my face, he would do as much as possible to make West Germany liveable. Try to help us build a workable economy in order to begin paying our war debts as well as keep my people alive and fed. He promised me we could begin to rebuild... to try and return a sense of normalcy to the German way of life... Roosevelt rejected it... as punishment for my people. It is like World War One all over again... And yet here I was, waiting to greet Alfred like he'd ordered.

His plane landed and he was grinning as he stepped off, waving a piece of paper and running over to where I stood. Still a kid, and he likely would remain so.

"Ludwig! Ludwig! I have good news!" he cheered, skidding to a halt before me. I shifted my weight, joints aching due to the malnutrition.

"And that is, mein Freund?"

"Trueman approved it... JCS 1067 has been removed!"

oh sweet relief...

**Sunday, June 20th, 1948**

"Well? What do you think?" Ludwig Erhard asked, brandishing the bill before the crowd, handing it over for me to examine.

"What is it?" I asked, the question on the tip of everyone else's tongues.

The man grinned, his eyes lighting up with pride. "A Deutsche Mark!" he explained, taking it back and pointing to it. "We can use this as our very own currency! The authorities won't have a choice but to let it go if we print enough secretly and exchange them!" he stated, voice almost bouncing in happiness.

I couldn't help but smile myself. It was good to see my people returning to some of their former selves. "And the rate of exchange?"

"We'll keep it simple. One Reichsmark or Rentenmark can get one Deutsche Mark. Think of it, Ludwig! A currency for Western Germany! All her own!"

"It's a brilliant idea, Erhard..." I replied, offering a smile and clapping him on the back once. "Print them... bring us a bit of pride..."

Alfred found out last out of the three powers watching over us. Arthur had merely shrugged it off and let it be. Francis had been amused, laughing hysterically before congratulating us on the reform. Alfred.. well... he pouted for a while before he bragged to Ivan, declaring that he was doing a better job at watching over us. After Ivan found out, he issued the East German Mark as a replacement. He bragged to Alfred. The tensions between the two became even more strained... I guess that's what caused the next major change of life in Germany...

**June 24th, 1948**

"ALFRED!" I yelled, making my way into the conference the American was in. He and his leader were visiting Germany, discussing many of the usual check ins to make sure we were following orders and laws. Everyone in the room looked up, glaring at me as I interrupted without a care. The American blinked, arching a brow.

"What is is, Ludwig?"

"Ivan..." I gasped for air and shook my head, leaning against the doorway. "He's blockaded Eastern Berlin..."

Alfred's eyes widened and he muttered a quick excuse to the country leaders in the room before ducking out of the room and dragging me with him.

"He's starving them, Alfred... I finally got through to Gilbert for the first time in three years and he says nothing good. The people are being confined... Ivan keeps pushing for new laws, new limitations. They have curfews... Prices are too high to buy anything. Hes' keeping them hungry, and he's trying to force your hand..." I rattled off quickly, feeling panic setting in.

The American frowned a bit more as he hurried down the street. "I have to make a call..." he muttered.

He was going to call Arthur. Despite the reassurance of the Brit's help, the fear that continued to grip me was that of the fear for my brother. Gilbert was still stuck in Eastern Germany... he was living with that bastard. Knowing that only made worry even more. What could he be doing to my brother? Prussia hadn't sounded like my brother. He'd been scared... his voice weak. He'd had to sneak around to get a hold of the phone, our call being cut short as Ivan found him. The last thing I'd managed to hear was a whimper before the line had gone dead.

**September 30th, 1949**

It was a success. The fly ins that America and Great Britain had done had managed to transport tons of supplies for a little over a year. 2,326,406 tons of food and supplies had been delivered to Western Berlin with a total of 278,228 flights, each plane carrying 7,968 tonnes of cargo. Despite this success, I was still worried.

Ivan did not react well to this. He removed the blockade, yes, but he became crueler. I could easily look over the border if I went far enough and immediately tell the difference between East and West Germany.

**1952**

The Inner German border was fortified. Ivan had made his next move. 1,831 km long, running from the Baltic Sea to the border of Czechoslovakia. It was the first real physical manifestation of the border between East and West Germany. It was here that I finally managed to see Gilbert for the first time.'

He'd been running, that much was obvious. His breath came in short, sharp gasps as he leaned against the barrier, gazing longingly out at my side. He was desperate and so close to freedom. So very close. He was thin, nothing but skin and bones. Images of the death camps flashed in my head, scaring me enough to look away for a brief moment. Shame flared up and I looked back, having made my mind to go help him. I looked back in time to see him being pulled back from the barrier. Ivan's grip on him was tight, hauling him over his shoulder and carrying him away from the border. I couldn't do anything but stare in shock.

Gilbert was screaming, reaching back towards the boarder in a desperate last attempt. His gaze locked with mine, my legs finally having caught up with my head and carrying me to the barrier. "Gilbert!" I cried, reaching the border and being forced to stop. Russia stopped and turned to look over his shoulder, smirking slightly. He waved cheerily once before continuing further into Eastern Germany. The entire time, Gilbert was reaching back towards me.

"BRUDER!"

**1953**

Italy came to visit for the first time since the end of arms and all Germans left Italy. He hadn't spoken except to argue and demand my people from his country. Via Rasella was just one of the many incidents. SS officers killing 335 people from Rome, about 10 for every officer killed in a surprise bombing. It took place on March 23, 1944. The final straw had been on June 29th in 1994. It was known as the Civitella Killings. Upon the retreat of German troops from Italy, every man in the village of Civitella was rounded up and shot. 119 male citizens were executed in cold blood as revenge for two attacks prior, all done by Italian rebels.

Nine years later and it was the first time we'd be talking face to face...

SLAP!

The sting slowly ebbed from my cheek as I turned my gaze back to the shorter Italian. He glared back up at me, eyes brimming with angry tears. About two meters back, Lovino was smirking. I ignored Southern Italy in favor for the Northerner.

"Es tut mir leid, Feliciano. Es tut mir leid..." I stated softly.

Feliciano sniffled, trying to hold his glare. "You... you... verme!" he finally sobbed, flinging his arms around my waist and sobbing against my chest. I flinched before wrapping my arms around the shorter man, holding him close.

" Es tut mir leid... Es tut mir leid... Es tut mir leid..." I repeated over and over, my voice cracking slightly. Our knees hit the ground, bringing another small wince of pain. I ignored it, cradling the shorter as he continued to sob insults at me, cursing my name for years to come. My gaze lifted slightly, a few tears having managed to get passed my barriers. Lovino stared at us in shock. Whether it was in reaction his brother's behavior or the fact that I was crying, I don't know. The only thing that mattered to me was the sobbing Italian in my arms.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

"I.. am worried about Gilbert..." I finally voiced, gaze down, fingers lightly tracing patterns into the condensation on my glass. Beside me, Feliciano shifted on his bar stool, nursing his own glass of Campari on the rocks. He glanced at me, swallowing his last sip.

"I've noticed... what was the last your heard from him?"

"We're not allowed contact... Ivan's rules." I muttered, tossing back another swig of bier. Italy frowned a bit more, his brows knitting together in worry.

"So you haven't heard?" He asked.

"Heard what?"

Feliciano sighed, looking back to his drink as he thought out his words. "Ludwig... June 16th to the 17th... there was an uprising in East Germany... in Berlin..." Not good... I could already feel the dread seeping in. "300 construction workers went on strike because of a cut in pay... more people joined their cause and... they brought in military power... the death toll is some where between 55 and 383 people... Ivan refuses to talk about it..."

"383..." I whispered, gripping my glass a bit tighter.

"It was all over the radio waves..."

"I've stopped listening to it..." I muttered, suddenly feeling sick. I slid the bier a bit further away, looking down at the bar top and swallowing. I could feel my throat tightening up and my breathing quicken. "Italia... I can't sleep..." I whimpered, slowly lifting my gaze to the Italian. "I can't think straight... I'm always worried about him. The last time I saw him was a year ago as he was being dragged from the Inner barrier."

Feliciano studied me for a bit before he reached over and ran a hand along my cheek, kissing the slight bruise left from the slap he'd delivered. "You really are a mess when I'm not here to help you focus..." he muttered softly. Pulling out a few marks, he paid for the drinks before I could even process the action, and gently lead me from the bar. "I have an idea... you're worried, yes? Well then... why not move to Berlin? Be as close to him as you can? You visit there enough as is already."

"You think Alfred would allow it?"

The Italian laughed. "Of course he would. Arthur would throw him out of bed if he didn't!"

"Wait, what?" I asked. Since when had those two been together? Feliciano shrugged, ignoring my question and grinning.

"And, I'll move with you!"

I wound up not having a say in the matter. Neither did Lovino apparently. A week later, the two of us were moved, settled in a reasonable house in Berlin.

**July 4th, 1954**

The World Cup had ended, the West German team winning against the Hungary team, 3 – 2. Italy had lost early on, but Feliciano took it in stride, happy that now he didn't have to worry about a play off between West Germany and Italy. Alcohol was consumed and I allowed myself one selfish moment to relax and not worry, if only for a little while.

That night, however, as I lay beside Feliciano, the Italian curled into my side and chest, I let a few tears of frustration fall. I did my best not to wake the other, but Feliciano being Feliciano has a sort of radar. His eyes cracked open and he shifted closer, pressing a kiss to my neck and just letting me be. It was an old routine... one I was glad to have once more. It had been hell without the Italian sleeping nearby.

**August 13, 1961**

The announcement of the Berlin wall shook ice into our hearts. It was bad enough already being able to see across the rail road tracks. But to have a large wall between us... it was torture. Italy was still hanging around. His excuses were the simple answers of "Lovino will be happy to look after Italy without me there to whine and get in his way." and the all too familiar, "Ludwig, if I left you alone, you'd forget how to eat and I'd have to come back down with the funnel and tube anyway. This is just saving me a hassle and trip." but the ones that usually shut me up were the simple kiss and a hand on the shoulder. He would just smile and let me continue until I had worked my frustration down and could think the situation through once more.

"Feliciano... this is only going to get worse..." I muttered, tearing my gaze from the beginnings of the wall and turned to the Italian.

He just smiled and pressed a kiss to my cheek, having to stand on his tip toes to do so. "I'm not leaving, Ludwig. Nice try though..." he replied with a soft laugh, going into the house and calling for the dogs.

I pleaded with Arthur to stop the wall. He didn't come through. Francis turned me away, refusing to hear me out. Alfred had done the same.

**1972**

The Basic Treaty was signed. West Germany and East Germany were officially sovereign from one another. It only worked to reinforce what the Berlin wall had already done. My worry only grew...

We hosted the Summer Olympics in Munich... Hate was only stirred as the incident later known as the Munich Massacre took place. The Israli Olympic team was taken captive by Black September. 11 athletes were killed as well as 1 West German officer. The incident marred the peaceful games. No one celebrated.

**1974**

The Football World Cup is hosted in Western Germany and won by the home team. There is plenty of celebration, but I don't find myself among the festivities. Feliciano has even avoided the crowds, sticking close as he waits by the phone for any word on the other end of Berlin. It never rings.

**1987**

I couldn't take it any more. I'm not even sure if I was in my right state of mind as I barged into the American embassy, right into Alfred's office. The American lifted his gaze from the woman he was talking to, lifting a brow in confusion. I glared at the woman as she stood. She left before Alfred could say otherwise. The door slammed shut and my fist met his desk.

"Noch nicht einmal darüber nachdenken, dass zur Eröffnung des Mundes oder verkaufen, so wahr mir Gott helfe ich werde euch zu essen Ihrem Schreibtisch durch deinen Arsch!" I snarled. Alfred paled, squeaking slightly. "Now listen and listen well, Alfred. I am sick of being ignored! I'm sick of having to stare at that fucking wall! It's an embarrassment! It's shameful!" I paused to try and control my breathing. Frustration and pain were finally being allowed to surface. I heard the door open gently behind me, Feliciano slipping in silently and shutting the door. I let out a sob, giving up on trying to remain in control. I had already committed, might as well give it up completely.

"_My people_ are split! _My people_ are crying out! _My people_ are in pain! But you don't care, do you! Because they're not _your_ people! You don't care because this isn't _your_ issue! Well this is _my_ country! _My_ people! _My_ family! _My_ home! You Allied Powers! You all think you're so much better than everyone else! You're no better than Germany was! You locked your own people up because you were afraid! Russia _murdered_ it's own people! And yet you get the fucking right to pass judgment on _us_! You're a fucking hypocrite! I dare you to look at that wall and tell me it's alright!"

The younger blond frowned, glaring back at me slightly. "Ludwig... stop. You're over reacti-"

"Over reacting! Alfred! Are you deaf? Are you blind! My people are _screaming_ on the other side of that wall! And god damnit! If you don't do something then I will! With or without your consent!"

His glare darkened. "I'll have you jailed if you're caught..." he warned. I scoffed, straightening up.

"I'd love to see you try it..."

That night I started to slowly chip away at the wall, stepping out to the most open part of the wall and bringing a sledge hammer to it. I managed to make a small dent when Alfred, true to his word, arrived with a group of police. I continued to bring the hammer around and into the wall, the entire time muttering the words, "Wir glauben, dass Freiheit und Sicherheit gehören zusammen".

Alfred hesitated as he watched, my emotional break down continuing with each swing. I was tiring and from the looks of it, he was going to let me stop on my own time. An hour they waited until I finally stumbled back, dropping the sledge hammer and falling to my knees.

"Bruder! Es tut mir leid, mein Bruder! Ich habe versucht! Ich habe versucht! Er versuchte ..." My throat hurt as I called out, my voice carrying out hoarse and strained with tears. "Mein Bruder... Mein Bruder!"

Having been silent the entire time, Feliciano finally spoke up, having been watching from the shadows. His words were directed at Alfred, his gaze staying on me. "Now do you understand, Alfred? Do you finally grasp the repercussions of what you... and Russia... and the others have done? You've broken one of us... you've completely destroyed a country... are you happy? Are you proud?" he paused and made his way over, kneeling in the rubble beside me and pulling me close, offering a shoulder to cry on. "Using a country torn in half to wage a war against a former ally... you're worse than what we were..."

"Feliciano, I'm warning you. Watch what you say-"

"Or you'll what? I'll admit it. We murdered thousands... we killed many... but we never... never! Used a country so horribly. You've been playing around with them... using them to try and show the world how big and powerful you are, Alfred... but you're not. You're weak... you're young... you're too proud... This needs to stop, Alfred... if you want to be a respected country so bad, then actually do something! Don't just stand there and let this continue! Swallow your pride and help! Us!"

Something Feliciano had said must have gotten through Alfred's thick skull...

**June 12th, 1987**

"We welcome change and openness; for we believe that freedom and security go together, that the advance of human liberty can only strengthen the cause of world peace. There is one sign the Soviets can make that would be unmistakable, that would advance dramatically the cause of freedom and peace. General Secretary Gorbachev, if you seek peace, if you seek prosperity for the Soviet Union and eastern Europe, if you seek liberalization, come here to this gate. Mr. Gorbachev, open this gate. Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall!" The voice of America's president, Ronald Reagan echoed around the Brandenburg gate. The cheers of the people carried, louder than the man's voice.

I watched from side lines, hand in hand with Feliciano. Alfred was beginning to grow up...and it was because of the Italian next to me.

**1989**

East Germans have been sneaking across the border from Austria and Hungary for the past few months. So far, I haven't seen sign of Gilbert, but I know it won't be long. Italy has been helping me keep track of who has entered and how.

Soon, mien Bruder... soon...

**November 9th, 1989**

The rhythm of hammering against the wall could be heard for kilometers. All around, West and East Berliners were making new passages through the wall. Slowly, but surely it was crumbling.

**October 3rd, 1990**

I refused to let go of the man I was currently holding, my brother holding on just as tightly. With the fall of the Berlin wall, had come the beginnings of the German Unification. Today was the first day in 38 years... 45 years since I had last been able to talk to... to touch... to hear my brother's voice...

"Du hast mir gefehlt, mein Bruder..."

"Ich habe nie aufgegeben Sie, West. Ich wusste, du würdest kommen rette mich..." he whispered, burying his face in my shoulder. "Oh god, West..! He... He-!" the sobbing started and didn't stop. I didn't need Gilbert to tell me what had been done to him. I knew. I didn't need it confirmed. I just tightened my hold on him.

"Es tut mir leid, mein Bruder..."

And all the while, Feliciano watched, a small smile in place. My one friend... the only one that hadn't turned away...

Ich liebe dich, Feliciano... Ich liebe dich


End file.
